


To Eat Crow Pie

by Domokoru



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Belly Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Digestion, Dinner, Don't Like Don't Read, Fatal Vore, Gen, Non-con Vore, Soft Vore, Vore, Vore Day 2020, fuck you, if u dont read the warnings and read this is 100 percent your fault, nasty use of the word nutrients, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domokoru/pseuds/Domokoru
Summary: Eat crow1. To display total humility, especially when shown to be wrong.Eat humble pie1. To admit that one is wrong, usually when doing so triggers great embarrassment or shame.In this fic, Descole doesn't do either of these but he does eat some people.For Vore Day 2020 (8/8)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	To Eat Crow Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the entire second trilogy of the series.
> 
> Read the warnings read the warnings read the warnings

It had been a few days since Descole's plan had been ruined in Misthallery. There were many to blame for this, but the main three, Layton and his entourage, had already left the town. Besides, Layton was intelligent enough to come in handy in the future. The only ones left for vengeance were the Black Ravens, the child-run black market group. Descole decided that he'd get them back, but the manner he chose would require him to dress normally, as to not arouse suspicion. He would have to use his former alter-ego to accomplish this, Desmond Sycamore, that bloody fool.

Descole took off his cape, switched his tar black tie for a scarlet one, and fluffed out his hair, like he used to in the past. He considered switching his mask for a pair of half-framed glasses, but the glasses were purely cosmetic, so he decided against it. He was ready.

He sauntered up to a vegetable stand, eying one of the nine kids that interfered with his plan. Descole put on his most charming grin as he approached the girl.

"Excuse me young miss, would you be so kind as to point me toward the Black Market?"

Marilyn looked over her shoulder before whispering her response. Usually she'd follow the normal Black Market protocol that Crow set up, but there were always exceptions made when the tourists looked wealthy.

"You might want to head in there." She motioned with her left hand towards the nearby marketplace, pushing a medal engraved with a wing pattern into his palm with her right. "Try asking around."

"Ah, thank you." The man's stomach growled in anticipation. For this plan to go smoothly, Descole had been fasting for the past couple of days, only drinking water and tea to stretch his stomach in preparation. As the girl placed the medallion into his hand, the man grabbed her wrists and yanked her up and over the vegetable stand. The medal fell from their hands, rattling on the counter.

"W-Wha-" Marilyn didn't have the chance to finish her question before being roughly shoved into Descole's mouth. She slid down easy, the man's throat plenty ready to accept a proper meal after several days of only tea. Short and lithe as she was, Descole noted he had swallowed horse pills before more difficult than this girl in the past. The man usually dressed a size up for flexibility, and this aided in hiding that he had just swallowed another person; to any passerby, it would look as if nothing happened at all.

Descole stopped to breathe for a moment, leaning on the vegetable stall, but was interrupted by a gasp from behind him. A somewhat taller boy with glasses was pointing at him, shaking in fear.

"Y-You... _Ate_ her...!" Louis stammered. Descole smirked.

"That's right. Do you want a turn as well?" The shock made the boy unable to run, like a deer in headlights, and he started to cry. "Stop your sniveling, boy!" Though, this made things much simpler for Descole, who only had to lunge forward and grab him, similar to the previous girl. He took a second to take the kid's glasses off and toss them on the ground before gobbling him up. The man threw them with such vitriol they cracked on impact with the mossy stone road. This child was lean but tall, and put up a bit more of a fight than the girl before. Descole walked backwards to lean against the produce stand for stability and push the boy down his throat with both hands, taking noticeably longer to slurp up his long legs. 

_Curses... I didn't check to see if the child had a medallion._ Somehow, Descole trusted his body enough to throw up anything metal that passed through his stomach, so he wasn't _too_ worried. Now that he had taken care of the witness and second child, the man had a small chance to rest. The man's stomach was still a reasonable size. His body wanted to rest a bit longer, but his mind knew he had to do this all in one fell swoop to avoid getting caught. After a bit, he pushed himself up from the stall and headed deeper into the marketplace.

The center of the marketplace seemed to branch off, so Descole headed to the right. He came upon two redheaded children, probably siblings, arguing over something. What they were arguing about mattered little to to Descole, so he set sights on the girl, figuring she'd put up less of a fight. He wordlessly butted into their argument and picked her up by the hips before being distracted by small fists beating on his thigh.

" _Hey! Leave my sister alone, you creep!_ " Socket yelled, whaling on Descole with all his might. The man rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh _please,_ you don't even know what I'm going to do to her yet." At that statement, Socket began hitting harder until Descole shook him off his leg, sending him backward a bit.

" _Please!_ Don't hurt Wren! Take me instead...!" Socket pleaded. The older man shrugged and dropped the girl, picking up her brother instead. First, he ripped off the brat's goggles and hat, throwing them by the wayside. As Descole licked his lips and brought him closer, Socket's expression switched from false bravery to pure terror.

"Socket, _no!_ " Wren watched in horror as the man scarfed down her brother as though he was no more than one of Aunt Taffy's candies. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked hungrily back at her.

"Your brother was very noble, sacrificing himself like that..." Descole commented with mock sympathy, cornering in on the girl. "Noble, _hic,_ and _stupid._ Now, where were we?" He grabbed her like before, tipping her into his mouth when he heard the metallic _clink_ of a medal rolling out of her coat pocket and onto the ground. Descole made a mental note to pick it up later. He slurped the girl down, sinking down to sit on the ground as he couldn't properly bend down. Sitting back against a storefront wall, Descole let gravity finish the job, the girl's flailing limbs only quickening her descent into his gut. He reached over to grab the medallion as he felt his stomach close over the load with a _squelch._

"There you go kid. _Hic!_ Now you can be with your broth- _urp_ forever." Slightly dismayed, Descole realized this would be the last child that was so easy to consume; his stomach was being to bulge out like he was pregnant with twins, and it was getting stretched so thin it made him more sensitive to the kids thrashing around inside of him. The man unbuttoned his suit jacket to rub his stomach through his dress shirt. _God_ it felt good. Descole wanted to relish in the feeling of being so comfortably full, full of his enemies no less, but there were still... He counted on his hands. Five more children. The man groaned as he got back on his feet and shuffled around the market, looking for his next victim.

Circling around the stalls and alleyways, Descole came upon a stout child. The boy was digging in a pile of rubbish, completely unaware of the dark presence behind him. Even so, Descole still needed two raven medals to get into the Black Market, so he wasn't able to take the boy by surprise. 

"You there, boy." The man's decorum had dissolved quickly after the first girl. These days, Descole despised children, so he gave up trying to be polite to the ill-mannered brats. In the end, none of it mattered; they would all end as food. Scraps turned around to face the voice addressing him. "Have any medals?" Descole asked. Scraps adjusted his glasses.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What's it to you, fatso?" The man scowled at his answer.

"This 'fat'," Descole grabbed at his stomach for emphasis, "is composed of your little gremlin friends, so I _suggest_ you cooperate." The boy recoiled in horror and fumbled around in his pockets before throwing a medal near Descole. 

"L-Look, just take it, okay? Just please let me go!" He tried to escape over the pile of junk to no avail. Scraps almost immediately tripped and fell when his foot got caught in some old fencing in the pile. Descole laughed as he watched the failed attempt.

"You know your friends are in danger, and you choose to run away instead of even _attempting_ to save them? What a coward!" Descole mocked, continuing to laugh as he grasped the boy's free ankle. "Even you can't argue you deserve this fate." The man picked him up, his glasses falling off as he held him upside down. _Hm. This one looks like a screamer._ Descole flipped the boy head-side up again, just like every other time. The faster the head went in, the less chance the brat would alert someone with his pitiful caterwauling.

As Descole had predicted, this plan was starting to get more difficult. This child, regardless of what a weakling he was, was providing a challenge. His body wasn't making it easy to pack in new meat anymore, even though his stomach was working away at the glut with all its might. Descole was now forced to put in effort, using his hands to guide and force the boy down his esophagus, his throat muscles working overtime to pull him inside. 

After finally squeezing the fifth black raven into his stomach, Descole didn't have a chance to take a break. He heard the sound of creaking metal come somewhere from above. Panting from the recent exertion of eating, the man looked up to see another boy jumping down from a staircase, aiming to kick Descole in the face. 

"Hhn- _GLUK!?_ " Badger's foot and lower calf lodged firmly into the man's mouth. Though incredibly convenient, Descole still wished he'd had more of a rest between meals. _Oh well._ He grabbed the boy's other leg and pulled it into his mouth, beginning to suck down the child from the feet upward. Badger started to beat his fists on the man's head as hard as he could, which only encouraged Descole to gulp faster. The man wrestled the boy's fists into his throat, locking them in place. The child responded by trying to wriggle out, unintentionally helping the man consuming him. 

After what felt like an eternity, Descole closed his mouth over the brat. His stomach was now audibly angry with the faintest screams of children and, more notably, the groaning of his digestive system. He looked around, making sure there weren't any more ambushing children around. Sighing in relief, Descole took the time to sit down again, his breaths slow and shallow. He looked down at his stomach. By the grace of God, none of his shirt buttons had popped off yet. Though his tanned skin was beginning to show through the gaps between them as his stomach continued to swell. The man began to gently rub his belly, his hand barely touching it. Truthfully, Descole wanted to be done there and then. It was starting become noticeably painful, more than a typical stomachache. With every child he digested he'd added two more, giving his stomach no time to recover. Nevertheless, he had to keep going. Descole refused to quit, especially during a plan over halfway completed, _especially_ during a plan for revenge. He took a half-hour break before struggling to stand again and waddling back to the center of the market.

If there were any space left, Descole's heart would've dropped to his stomach at what he saw. The next child was visibly chubby, nearly _twice_ the size of any of the others. Descole's body whinged at the sight, but his brain fought against his urge to stop. He wouldn't back down from a challenge. Taking a deep breath, he snuck up behind the boy and grabbed him by his hair.

"Hey, wha-!?" Tweeds didn't have a chance to react as he found himself engulfed in hot, slick flesh. 

_Hm. Tastes like candy._ The boy's face and hands were sticky from taffy, adding a surprisingly sweet flavor to the usual salty taste of human flesh. Nonetheless, this wasn't a wine tasting, so Descole tried to shove the child in roughly only to be met with resistance from the rest of his gorge. Descole rolled his eyes and began attacking from a different angle. He used one hand to force the boy in while his other pushed on his own stomach, trying to encourage the digestive process or make room or _something._ After a lengthy struggle, both against the kid and himself, Descole packed him in, punctuating it with a loud, painful hiccup. Still huffing, Descole counted aloud to himself.

"Six, seven... but only... three medals?" His sources that he paid to spy on Layton had told them there were seven children, by which point he would give them to the eighth and then be let into the market to meet the ninth. "Then where's the...?" Descole let out a violent belch and out popped the last medal, catching it in his hand. He smirked and began to head toward the last two people standing in the way of completing his revenge.

The child in charge of receiving the medals was close by, luckily for Descole. Never had he wanted to sit down more than right now. He slammed them on table next to the boy. 

"Here. Show me the market." Nabby stared at the table, then looked up at the man, then shuddered in disgust at the man' midsection. Descole glowered at the boy, silently daring him to comment on his appearance. Nabby sniffed and handed him the puzzle, obviously uninterested. It was a sliding puzzle featuring the crow medallions. _Child's play._ The boy examined the completed puzzle before pulling away a scrap of sheet metal that covered a manhole.

"It's down there." No less than a minute after the words left the boy's lips, Descole pounced. His face twisted in pain as he felt his stomach bulge to an even inhumanely larger size, skin so taut he felt as if he were about to burst. 

_No!_ Descole absolutely _refused_ to let these brats win, to let a single one escape their fate. He continued to choke down the child, internally pleading him to struggle harder to make it the process quicker. His massive stomach groaned loudly in protest with every gulp, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. Just a little more and... Descole managed to force in yet another Black Raven. 

"Phew..." Descole grimaced as he turned to see the manhole. How in the world was he supposed to cram himself down there? He sighed, taking off his coat and dropping itu down the hole; he doubted that would help reduce his mass, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with loose clothing as well.

Lowering himself down the manhole, it started off normally, his legs sliding down easily. Once Descole lowered down to his hips, it became a problem. He started to regret not bringing oil or some sort of lubricant, but how was he supposed to know the underground market would literally be _underground?_ Descole sucked in his gut as much as he could, swearing he could feel his other organs shift to make room for his stomach. As he held in his breath, he slowly pressed the edges of his belly down the opening, painfully inching his way down into the sewers. It took some time, but sure and steadily he made it down, climbing the ladder down backwards so he didn't have to cram his stomach against the rungs. Descole reached the bottom. Finally, he was here, just meters away from the head of the Black Ravens. Descole stomped past the stalls and up the stairs, albeit slowly, and slammed open the door to the auction house. There he was, the leader of the Black Ravens.

"Glad you could make it." Crow smirked as he faced Descole. "Your puzzle-solving skills are most impre-"

"Yeah, yeah. Spare me the spiel, kid." Descole interrupted. Crow looked taken aback. Descole sorely wanted to just be done, to lay down and sleep his binge off, so he didn't bother to mince words. "You want to let me eat you now or do this the hard way?" The man was blocking the only way out with his enormous girth, and he highly doubted this twig of a kid could move him out of the way. Descole relished in the looks of horrified realization as the boy connected his appearance and his question. Crow had a plan though. Crow _always_ had a plan.

"Sure, go ahead." Crow attempted to lure the villain into a false sense of security, then swoop in and save his friends from the belly of the beast. Descole looked shocked for a second before responding.

"All right." Descole was no fool; he knew the brat was trying to trick him in an attempt to rescue the doomed little friends of his. The man knew at least half of them had to be little more than nourishing sludge at this point, but he wasn't about to tell the boy that. He'd gladly accept dinner and a show, or rather, a show and dinner.

"Come on, then." Descole crossed his arms, the jerking movement stretching his already tight shirt to the brink and popping off a button, accidentally shooting Crow in the eye with a loud _plink._ This only made the boy angrier. He stomped over to Descole and shoved his right hand at him. 

"Here. Start from my arms." Crow implored matter-of-factly. Descole continued pretending to be unaware of his plot, displaying mock surprise. 

"Okay, if you insist." Descole yanked the boy's hat and scarf off, letting them drop to the floor. The man wanted to let this boy have a false sense of security until it was too late, so he even crouched down to meet his arms, letting him keep his feet on the floor for stability. 

_Yes! He doesn't suspect a thing._ Crow reached one arm in, trying to force it down the man's throat so he could grab onto his friends and pull them out. Descole let him try, not daring to interfere. Crow reached further and further, until he felt his hand push through a fleshy ring. He tried to reach until he felt a hand and grabbed it tight. "Don't worry guys, I'm gonna get you out!" He yelled in triumph. Crow tightened his grip and pulled back. "...Huh?" His hand was stuck, as if it were in a Chinese finger trap. " _...Huh?_ " Crow repeated as he started to panic.

This was exactly what Descole had been waiting for. He shoved the boy's other hand into his throat and tipped his head upward, sliding back out of his crouch to slump on the ground. Like all the others, the last boy tried to scream and struggle, but there was nobody left to help him. Descole was free to take his time and leisurely suck the boy down; his head was almost completely in his mouth, securing him in place. Even so, the man just wanted to nap already, so he employed his prior strategy of shoving and rubbing his stomach in an attempt to make room for his dessert. Descole steadied his breathing, taking deep breaths; every time he breathed in, he would swallow a little more, his stomach throbbing with every gulp. Every few minutes, a swallow would make another button on his shirt shoot off across the room, only stopping when none remained.

By the time the arduous process was over, Descole noticed the light from the windows turning an orange hue. 

_The sun must be setting already._ Should he attempt to leave? The man didn't think he could fit through the door of the auction house, let alone up through the manhole again. Descole decided to sleep off his gorge in this building; it was well insulated, and it wasn't as if he was going to need food for the night. 

After making his decision, Descole became aware of his body again. For one, his jaw ached and his mouth and chin was covered in drool from the last lengthy binge. He felt around on the ground, and grabbed the last boy's cream scarf, using it as a napkin before dropping it back down again.  
  
The man didn't even have to look down to see his belly anymore; it jutted high, reaching his face as he leaned on the wall. He slipped down further, lying on his back and reaching his arms up to massage his swollen globe of a gut. 

_I did it. I ate_ all _of them._ Even though his throat was sore, his mouth dry, and his midsection hurt like hell, there was something bizarrely comfortable about being so packed with food. It was almost erotic. _Almost._ The spasms running though his stomach every now and then distracted him from the pleasure. Descole moaned and groaned, his stomach mimicking the sounds as well. 

As his eyes began to flutter shut and he began to drift off into sleep, all Descole could do was bask in the afterglow of successfully getting revenge on that group of brats. Of course, it was _intended_ as revenge, but the man saw it vaguely as an honor. Sacrificing their lives to become food and nutrients to power one of the greatest scientific minds of their time was more impactful than anything else those brats ever would have accomplished. As the room darkened through the windows, the last thing running through Descole's mind before sleeping was that witnessing their downfall truly was... _delicious._

**Author's Note:**

> Have yourselves a merry little Vore Day, everyone!


End file.
